


The Wait

by contronym



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contronym/pseuds/contronym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things Asami can wait for.  And some things Asami simply can’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wait

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERT: This story is un-beta-d A.F.

_Send your dreams, where nobody hides_

_Give your tears, to the tide_

_No time, no time_

Wait - M83

 

* * *

 

 

To be perfectly candid, I had been here hundreds of times. 

Between “Team Avatar” comfort sleepovers following my father’s Equalist outing, various back-and-forth Mako breakups, Zaheer’s poisoning, and several self-indulgent visits in her absence, Korra’s space had become so familiar to me that I could navigate the Air Nation dormitory in complete darkness (and I had, on occasion).

But tonight introduced a new degree of hesitation.  Breaching the entrance was like forcing myself through some wormhole, invading an unrecognizable time and dimension.  I noticed my legs begin to shake nervously, and leaned back against the door frame for support.

Peering around the room, her dress for Varrick and Zhu Li’s wedding from over two weeks ago remained draped along the back of a chair, the elegant folds pooling into the planked floor below.  Some embers were crackling in the fireplace – an unusual sight, seeing as the Water Tribe native ran warm, and typically only maintained a fire to keep others comfortable. A small knapsack lied neatly packed on the floor, with a change of clothes (for the morning, I presumed) strewn haphazardly on top.  Standing comfortably in pajamas with her back facing the door, Korra rummaged through her wardrobe, muttering to herself about needing to find “something swim appropriate” for our upcoming venture.

The prospect of visiting the Spirit World with the Avatar had all but consumed my every waking moment, making the last sixteen days feel practically endless. 

But waiting was something I was used to – waiting was something I was capable of, if the last three years were to testify for anything. 

We were due to embark first thing in the morning. 

_So why am I here right now?_

 

I slid the door closed behind me, simultaneously announcing my unexpected intrusion as well as stressing our current state of quarantine. My actions created a vacuum, the air thick with irreversibility.  Her head jerked to face my entry, bangs obstructing dazzling, bewildered eyes. 

I detected a rare yet palpable vulnerability in Korra’s gaze.  As though the world’s most powerful creature – responsible for balancing humanity, influencing houses and nations and heroes with her mere presence, making my breath hitch whenever our fingers brushed - silently seated me in the throne, daring me to lead. Waiting to see if I would explain away the countless, irrational moments of stolen glances and stuttering speeches as Future Industries C.E.O. Asami Sato, ever diplomatic and aloof, cool and poised.  Or act first and sink my teeth into some unnamed delicacy, drawing first blood, opting to wage a war no one was expected to lose. 

Korra refused to blink.  In fact, she barely moved – barely breathed, it seemed (or was that me?).

My mind raced with incoherency.

 

* * *

 

_Night four after Kuvira’s assault on Republic City marked the date of my father’s funeral.  It could hardly be called a burial, seeing as all that could be recovered were a few oil and blood stained remnants of prison clothing.  I begged for them anyway, holding them close to me as I chased sleep, unconcerned with ruining pillow cases or bed linens._

_No one - **I** never - gave him permission to live as a criminal. Or to die a martyr._

_Once, when I was young, I snuck off to the Sato raceway.  At the age of seven, I was already fascinated by the cars, eager to understand the mechanics, and exhilarated by the allure of the track.  My mother had died only one year previous, and I struggled to find joy in her stead, while walking in the halls harboring the scent of her perfume and the echoes of her laughter._

_My father discovered me, alone in the pit of the race track, having fallen asleep draped over the crew bench.  I awoke with a start, peering up with exhaustion and fear.  I knew I was out of line – I wasn’t supposed to go to the track by myself, and I certainly was not permitted to handle and tinker with the pit crew machinery._

_I closed my eyes tightly and hung my head, looking to my nails caked with grease, awaiting the stern lecture and inevitable punishment.  To my surprise, I felt a strong arm grip my shoulder, his other hand pulling my chin up with two fingers.  He simply smiled at me, saying, “We will need to get you a few tracksuits.  Can’t dirty up any more of your favorite dresses.”_

_“…You aren’t mad?” I whispered, shocked._

_“You know, Asami,” He knelt down and lifted my exhausted body gently to his warm torso, cradling me back toward our house. “Satos aren’t known to ask for permission, especially for the things that make us happiest.”_

_I remembered the warmth in his chest and his admission, and cried in to the fabric that felt nothing like him._

 

* * *

 

Without thinking, I felt my legs execute slow steps to meet Korra across the room.  My hands reached towards her shoulders, stopping just below her collar bone.  I (finally) consumed one small breath, and fisted my hands in her shirt, pulling her body flush against my own, forcing her up on to her toes. Her chin angled upwards effortlessly, azure orbs shifting just slightly.  She was so close, I swear, I could feel her eyelashes on my cheeks.  Our knees bumped together, and I shuddered.

Her mouth opened in silent response - perhaps trying to ask awkwardly yet genuinely in typical Korra-fashion, “Are you okay?” (which, no, obviously – you’re doing that thing again where you make me breathless whenever I look at you?).  Or maybe, and much more likely, “What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Which, to be fair, I would have been asking that myself if I my brain wasn’t so encumbered.

Because really, Asami.  What. The. _Fuck_.

 

* * *

_I wrapped my father’s tattered clothing around his favorite photo – a black and white framed picture of us and my mother, perhaps the last suggestion of permanence for our small family – perching the small bundle atop my hip as I ferried across the bay to Republic City.  It was one of the few items to survive the mecha suit onslaught, and seeing as he was one of the many that didn’t, I figured he deserved to have it with him._

_I elected to keep the memorial private.  Mako was still recovering, with Bolin and the rest of their family loyally watching over him, teaching him to love his scars that saved us all.  Korra was attempting to heal amongst the company of her parents and Tenzin’s family on Air Temple Island.  It was a mostly silent recovery, filled with knowing glances and extended hugs that all but screamed, ‘Thank you for not dying.’_

_It was already so difficult to celebrate what life we had left – there was no room to ask anyone else to commiserate in grief; to mourn and endure any of my loss._

_I dug up the ground myself, just outside the lines of our estate.  The Sato mansion was heavily damaged, with most of the infrastructure having been obliterated by Kuvira’s weaponry.  Tragic parallel, really – a foundation so devastated that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to salvage anything worth building upon._

_But I would._

_I would start construction, build a better estate, one that accepts and accommodates spirit vines.  Include a docking bay for the Avatar’s air ships and a warehouse dedicated to Varrick’s humane madness coupled with Zhu Li’s quiet brilliance.  We would create clean energy, train and employ anyone willing to learn, and provide equal opportunities for all – privileged and disadvantaged, men and women, benders and nonbenders - to fulfill leadership roles within the company._

_I would build Future Industries from the ground up, starting from the bottom of my father’s grave._

_“Does she know?” I asked the darkened, desolate lawn._

_“Did you tell mom you are a hero?”_

 

‘Hiroshi Sato

120 A.G. – 174 A.G.

Always loved, forever forgiven’

 

* * *

 

My hands spasmed, still sweating and twisted in Korra’s night shirt.  Her eyes were wide with curiosity and anticipation. 

_Anticipating what, exactly?_

She met me with the same look sixteen evenings prior, while enthusiastically suggesting that we plan a vacation together, just for us.  I wasn’t able to get an answer to the question then – shortly after an emphatic “Sounds perfect,” we were pulled back in to the wedding festivities.  I sat with an exhausted but ecstatic Zhu Li, while Korra resumed dancing with the air bender children.  But I constantly searched for her through the crowd, and each time her eyes met my own, my chest swelled.

And it dawned on me that, just maybe, we were both anticipating the same thing.

Just then, Korra let out a small, warm breath that I felt spill across my nose before I closed my eyes, tightened my grasp, and pulled.

 

* * *

_I returned to the island after nightfall, covered in dirt, and my face stained with earth and salt – from sweat or tears, I wasn’t sure.  I hadn’t disclosed to anyone where I was going, so I wasn’t expecting anyone to meet me upon my arrival.  I carried myself to my temporary quarters on Air Temple Island, my feet feeling heavy, and my spine bending under the weight of loneliness._

_Upon approaching my room, I was surprised to find a small, lit candle perched upon my desk.  Beside the flame, there were perhaps ten Air Nomad lilies, delicately bunched together in a small, simple vase.  I traced a petal with my index finder, my nail encased with soil. My eyes travelled to the bottom of the vase when my heart stopped._

_Wrapped around the vase, a small pair of gold-tinted spectacles glinted in the candlelight.  The lenses were missing, and the frame appeared to have been metal-bent together from several broken fragments, but there was no doubt in my mind.  These were Hiroshi’s Sato’s glasses, worn in his final moments against Kuvira.  During his moment of sacrifice that saved me and her and all of Republic City._

_Too exhausted to cry, I held the simple frames in my hands, feeling the weight against my palms.  The glasses became heavier the longer I held them – as if he came flooding back into the small artifact, bit by bit.  If I held them long enough, maybe I could see his eyes, or imagine that I could – just long enough for me to tell him all the things I couldn’t muster the bravery or will to say at his memorial._

_It took several minutes before I realized these thoughts weren’t exclusively internal – I was saying the words aloud, into the empty room, repeating them to the small trinket like a mantra:_

I miss you, thank you, I love you, I love her, I love you

_I could feel my lungs burdened a little less with each syllable._

_A wave of exhaustion encouraged me to gently fold the frames together and carry the glasses to my dresser.  I opened the top drawer and reached in to lift the lid of a small red box.  I placed the glasses inside the capsule, delicately rearranging my mother’s necklace and Korra’s letter within the container with all the care I could muster – as though these items were my most precious possessions._

_As I lay in bed, watching candle-cast shadows dance against the walls, I realized that they probably were._

 

* * *

 

Silence reverberated through the fire lit room as my lips caught hers, heat spreading across my face and my hands and my chest in a fashion that made my knees buckle.  My hands remained buried in her shirt, desperate to keep us grounded, feeling like if I let up at all, we would both begin to float away, just like the hundreds of times I had dreamt of doing this in her absence.

It was only a moment before Korra’s hands, previously pinned against her own sides, came up to meet my shoulders – I winced and froze, internalizing rejection.  My stomach plummeted and churned in on itself as I waited for her to push me away and out this reverie I had ached for, back into the reality that seemed determined to break each promise whispered to me in my dreams.

 

* * *

_“I am so sorry about what happened.”_

_Tears stung my eyes as the brisk ocean breeze swept across Air Temple Island.  Warmth suddenly enveloped me then, and the chill of the crisp evening, mixed with a dose of grief, vanished._

_Korra’s arms, I realized, were wrapped around me tightly._

_I returned the effort, gripping Korra with all the strength I could muster, letting the pain drip from my bones, if only for a moment – just long enough to revel in Korra’s presence, and the wedding, and the comforting glow of the spirit portal._

_Just long enough to remember that (thanks to_ her _, and thanks to_ him _) I had lived._

_“I am just glad I was able to forgive him.”_

 

* * *

 

I felt strong fingers wrap around the back of my neck, and my entire body relaxed in a wave of relief, barely able to resist the urge to sink into the firm grasp.  She pulled me forward, crushing our lips together, and I couldn’t help but emit a quiet moan.  Her other hand trailed up in to my hair, tugging my head slightly to the side.  A smile snuck onto my lips as the kiss became a fervent act, substituting for the unsaid - hands pulling and gliding across skin ( _I missed you)_ , lips working against each other ( _I need you_ ), knees giving out under the weight of desperation and urgency ( _I am sorry_ ).

Korra relented first. I opened my eyes, feeling her lips drop from mine slowly, her heels landing softly on the wood panels.  I looked down to find face was flushed, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.  I mostly noticed her eyes, slightly pink and glistening, peering at me with a look I couldn’t define.

I reached for her, bringing the Avatar’s fingers to my lips to kiss each calloused digit.  We stood and we stared, the silence once again consuming the room.

 

“Was- is this okay?”  I finally whispered into her hands.  She replied by splaying her palms against my face, rubbing small circles with her thumbs across my cheek bones.  I couldn’t help leaning in to the pressure as her fingers mindlessly tangled themselves in the loose strands of hair behind my ears.

Her voice crackled along with the fire as a gentle smile reached her eyes.  “Aren’t I supposed to be the impulsive one?” she asked lightly.  “I have a frogbull-headed reputation to uphold, you know.”

I released a small alleviated sigh, hints of laughter laced in my breath.  “Well,” I murmured, leaning my head against her shoulder, “you should know that, as a Sato, requesting permission rarely precedes asking forgiveness.” 

I brushed my lips across her neck, briefly, “And I do hope that you can forgive me for not being able to postpone this any longer.”

“I’ll think about it,” Korra mused.  “Though, don’t think this means my impatience is cured – like I said, reputation and all.”

“I think I can handle that,” I responded, allowing a contented smile to wrap around my lips.  “Oh, by the way, I forgive you, also.”

A shocked expression played across her face.  “What?!”   She stepped back from me and crossed her arms, feigning frustration.  “What could I have possibly done already that would make redemption necessary?”

“For one, breaking into my room to leave flowers.”  _And not telling me that part of your recovery was spent excavating and piecing together the only item of my father’s left in this world._ A short silence passed while Korra’s face softened with understanding, her cheeks flushing as I continued. 

“Second, for any and all grey hairs on my head – which, if you disclose that I have even one outside of this room, I’ll deny it vehemently.”  I shot her a playful glare, earning a lopsided grin in return.  “And finally, for not being able to bring a more ‘appropriate’ swimsuit on our vacation.”

“…Asami, you know traditional swimwear around the South Pole is noth-“

“Nothing that can’t be forgiven, repeatedly.” I interrupted.

A blush crept across her cheeks.  “Well, aren’t you presumptuous?  S’pose that’s fair.”

“Fair?” I asked, curious.  The fire emitted a large hiss as a few small flames were extracted from the larger body.  They were airborne, yet completely controlled – bent, more accurately - around my torso and my face, engulfing me in a ghostly warmth. 

“Ah,” I hummed knowingly.  _Of course_. “You were expecting company.  As well as my impulsivity.”

Korra smiled gently as the flames extinguished midair. “I am just really glad you’re here, Asami.”  She wrapped her warm hands around my wrists, giving me goosebumps. 

“I’m so happy to be taking you to the Spirit World.  There are so many things I want you to see.”

She intertwined her fingers with mine and I smiled genuinely, looking into the eyes that made me feel like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. 

“I can’t wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a writer - this is my first fiction ever, so thanks for enduring, you brave brave soul.
> 
> I drafted this months ago, and never thought I'd share it. But, you know. Dignity be damned.
> 
> I'm looking to practice more, so if anyone out there would like to become a beta, let me know, or else I'm afraid the LOKorrasami fandom will have to put up with my unregulated nonsense.
> 
> Besos <3


End file.
